


Glory Days

by bubslove



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, M/M, Runaway richie, Side Benverly - Freeform, side stanlon, video diaries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-10-23 19:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17689091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubslove/pseuds/bubslove
Summary: Eddie had never felt something quite like this. Reading the texts felt like a stab in the chest. Richie had tried to run away in the past, never got to far before realizing how fucking stupid he was being. But this was different, he was acting different the past week. Quiet, out of focus, not Eddie’s Richie. Eddie’s Richie would give him butterflies with every little touch—that week Richie didn’t touch Eddie at all. Eddie’s Richie told him he would die for him—Richie didn’t speak a word to him. Eddie didn’t know who this “new Richie” was, but goddammit it wasn’t the Richie he fell in love with.orEddie makes a video for Richie everyday he's "missing". Eddie explains what the losers did that day to find him, where they traveled, who said what, and why it was incredibly immature for Richie to leave like him this-hopelessly in love with him.





	1. Pain Demands to Be Felt

**Author's Note:**

> this chapter is like a prologue, it begins before the videos start!  
> tumblr-@darling-richie

When it came to Richie Tozier, he would lay down and die for all 6 of his friends. “Cared” wasn’t a word good enough for the love he carried for them. Each of them held a sacred place in his life. Bill was his best friend since they were kinders in the stupid town of Derry. Even though they might’ve punched the other in the face a few times, Richie always knew he cared. Bill wasn’t very good at expressing emotions.

Stan was… something else. The only person who could deal with the bullshit Richie threw at him. All the ‘beep beep's and ‘shut up, dick’s he could throw at him where always put down with one of his contagious smiles and playful banters. At the end of the day, Richie would always run around the world to find him and make sure he didn’t swallow all the pills or tie the noose—as Richie had stopped him from doing before.

Beverly—his girl “bestie”, his “bitch”. He knew, he always knew. The way she looked at Ben and Bill. The way she talked to Mike. The way she giggled with Eddie. The way she would kid with Stan. She was constantly smiling, cheek to cheek. Being friends with her was like a breath of fresh air in a smokehouse—exhilarating, refreshing. One hug from her and every worry he ever had would disappear.

Ben, the sweetest boy to hit this Earth. Sometimes Richie would just look at Ben when he felt sad. He was so incredibly supportive and always knew what to say. “Haystack”, as they would call him, even though he had lost a stellar amount of weight. Bev would look at him like he was a god, like he made every creature on Earth and named them all his own. While he looked at Bev like she was the Earth, like she was mysterious, gorgeous, had many flaws but would always come through in the end.

Mike was mature and helped set everyone in place. Being one with a heavy background, he had to stick up for himself. He was tough, would always kick Bowers’s ass when he almost killed Richie. Richie thought of Mike like a bigger brother, even though they were only months apart in age. He would never tell him that though, Richie has a rep in their group. He ain’t no softie, as he would say.

Then there was one more, Eddie Kaspbrak. _Eddie, Eddie, Eddie._ His best friend in the whole entire world, besides Stan and Bev and all his other friends of course. People thought of Eddie as a the queer fairy of our group, but the rest of the losers know better than that. Eddie had a structure like firecracker, small but can hurt you so fucking bad if you start the fire. Sure he was small and gay, but he might’ve just been the most powerful loser of them all. Eddie’s smile felt like the only reason Richie had the gift of sight, even if his sight was rather shitty. Eddie’s freckles felt like the only reason his brain was able to count. Eddie’s hands felt like the only reason Richie had the sense to feel. He could go on and on and on. Eddie was in his mind 24/7, and even if Richie cried and screamed and begged for the thought of Eddie to leave, Eddie would always be there, in his mind, touching him with his calloused hands, looking at him with his enormous doe eyes, and scrunching his nose at jokes Richie would tell him.

Richie felt like he was always bothering them. His stupid mom jokes, his stupid lanky figure, his stupid ass clumsiness. No matter how many times he said he cared or confessed to love—he would never be taken seriously. All the ‘beep beeps’ and eyerolls just proved to him that he’d make their lives miserable. Then again, he brought this upon himself, he would have to suffer the consequences of his actions. And yet here he was, on a bus, going god knows where, ignoring Bev’s 50 texts and reading Eddie’s 50,000. He responded to a few of Eddie’s, not giving any details and being rather bland about it - which did not in any way make Eddie satisfied.

**eds** : _richie fucking goddamn tozier i swear to fucking god_

**rich** : _im fine_

Richie blinked the tears away, he didn’t have time to cry over boys. He took a deep breath, opened Eddie’s Caller ID page and pressed _“Block this caller”._

 

* * *

 

Eddie had never felt something quite like this. Reading the texts felt like a stab in the chest. Richie had tried to run away in the past, never got to far before realizing how fucking stupid he was being. But this was different, he was acting different the past week. Quiet, out of focus, not Eddie’s Richie. Eddie’s Richie would give him butterflies with every little touch—that week Richie didn’t touch Eddie at all. Eddie’s Richie told him he would die for him—Richie didn’t speak a word to him. Eddie didn’t know who this “new Richie” was, but goddammit it wasn’t the Richie he fell in love with. He was pacing around Bill’s living room, where all the other losers where, seconds away from an asthma attack, and he didn’t even have asthma.

”He couldn’t gone far...” Stan said, laying in Mike’s lap, looking just as distressed as Eddie. “Besides, you of all people would know where he goes.” Eddie scoffed and looked up at his best friends. They thought just because he was close to Richie meant he knew every little thought in that boys head.

“You act like I stalk him. I don’t know where he’s going because he doesn’t know where he’s going! Reminder that he’s told me every time he was about to run away, except this one. That’s gotta mean something,” his voice cracked, “my Richie wouldn’t leave like this..” His voice turned lighter than a feather, a heartbreaking sound.

Beverly sighed and sat next to him. “Looks like we’ll just have to find him.” She smiled at Eddie, hoping to lighten the mood. She wiped the tears from Eddie’s face. “We didn’t make a promise together to let Richie leave.” Various nods came from all around the room.

“God, it was never this serious. Whaddya think happened?” Mike asked, obviously curious. Eddie shrugged.

“But we can’t just s-skip school to f-find him! He p-pulls this sh-sh-shit all the f-fucking ti-ime. Wh-what if he’s somehow w-watching us right n-now and laughing at us? Th-then what?”

Eddie chin started to tremble slightly. “What if he’s not… and we don’t find him..?” Everyone froze, Richie meant a lot to all of them. They were all hoping to push the idea of not finding him down.

“We will..” Sweet little Ben added, hopefully. “...Right?” Mike and Stan nodded.

“Of course we will, our club just isn’t complete without our trashmouth.” Bev kidded, but it wasn’t the same.

“C-count me out.” Bill said. Eddie looked at him with the heaviest glare he could muster, that fucking asshole. If Richie were there, he’d wrap his arms around Eddie. He’d make a stupid joke about him being the most important, about how Bill secretly loves him. He decided he’d just have to tell Richie, even if it was just a simple text. _He loves him, he loves him, he loves him._

“I love him…” he blurted, subconsciously, another tear threatening to fall down his cheek. The losers all looked at Eddie.

Stan took a step forward and put his hand on his shoulder. “We know…” The losers shared sympathetic looks towards the smaller boy. Bill took a deep breath. “I-I swear to g-god, h-he’s p-probably just kidding!”

“Jesus, Bill! You’re being such a prick! Don’t you think looking for him would he worth it?” Stan questioned him, Eddie knew Stan was feeling the same anger Eddie was. Bill got in Stan’s face. “N-not if he’s k-kidding!”

Bev stepped between them. “Shut up you two! Eddie knows Richie better than any of us! If Richie didn’t tell Eddie anything it’s serious!” That shut Bill up. The red head’s death glare made him shribble in size. “So, we’re either going to find him with or without you, Bill.” Mike gritted, him and Ben going to comfort Eddie.

Bill looked at everyone and nodded, embarrassed at his own behavior and short temper. “...Sorry, Eddie..” he mumbled sheepishly. Eddie nodded, stepping forward into Bev’s tight embrace. Ben was the next to hug Bev and Eddie, then Mike, then Stan, and finally, Bill. One huge group swarm, filled with tears and sniffles of everyone. Eddie took a shaky breath, resting his head on the Beverly’s shoulder and letting out a shaky sob.

“I promise you, we're gonna find him, baby.” The slightly taller girl comforted him. The word _hopefully_ hung in the air around them.

 

* * *

 

 

Running away was harder than Richie excepted. Not just mapping out were he was going, but saying goodbye. To his parents, his friends, Eddie. He always knew a day like this would come—and he would have to let go. He just didn’t know it be so soon. He would’ve done so much more if he’d had been aware.

Richie wouldn’t let the feeling stop him, he’d already gone too far to turn back. It felt like they’re was an angel and a devil on each shoulder. One was saying turn back and the other was convincing him he was obligated to do this, keep walking, “who gives a shit?!” Truth was, he didn’t even pay attention to the angel. Sure he missed his friends, but at the end of the day he knew they wouldn’t miss him, right?

Around school, Tozier was known as a queer stoner. Every day there was a new rumor about him sucking some guys dick, and everytime he was in a relationship with girl they told her to _“watch out, he’s a queer.”_ Bullying was a common occurrence for the queer kids of Derry. An everyday struggle. He can tell you—it fucking sucks. He almost felt bad for leaving the losers to suffer through that, but then remember that they have each other. Richie wished he had something to knock the memory of all six of them out his head. Something to take the emptiness in his chest away. Something that made him stop think about how Bev giggled, how gorgeous Eddie looked in his clothes, how playful Stan was, how strong Mike was.

After an eternity (an hour), the bus stopped by a small deserted rest stop. He didn’t know the name of this place, he stopped naming places a mile into the trip. Why did it matter anyway? He was going to forget at the end of the day. He sat on the curb and pulled out his phone. His mom called, probably checking where he was. She was really worried. He assured her he was fine, and she believed him, even though she did not want him to leave.

The bus ride was just as painful as the last. He looked out the window and saw the ground moving fast, every little thing flying by them. He needed to stop eventually, it was getting late. The next stop, Richie decided, was his last. He’d probably stay there for a few days before moving on. He’d stolen all the money from his college fund and didn’t tell anyone. Since he was leaving he figured he wouldn’t need it. Plus, he’d gotten art scholarships, and those were still possibilities.

He hopped off at the stop, and headed to the road that lead to a Best Western. After getting checked in, he sat all of his stuff down in his room and flopped onto the bed. The most of his worries were on money. If he used to much data off his phone, payed for to many rooms, and spent a lot of it on food he’d be out in weeks. His plan was to find a job once he was stable.

His mind traveled from topic to topic quickly. He went from food, to money, to Eddie, to college, back to Eddie. He had to accept the fact that these thoughts weren’t leaving, as much he wanted them too. He slammed his face into a pillow. He’d do anything to see him in one of his sweatshirts right now. This would be the longest trip of Richie’s entire life.

 

* * *

 

 

“Looks like we should get started as soon as possible then.” Stan said, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen off Bill’s countertop. “So...what will we need?”

“Uhm.. a car possibly? Can we use Billy’s?” Bev suggested. Bill shrugged unenthusiastically. “Sure.”

Everyone’s eyes landed on Eddie, who shook his head, refusing to let more tears fall. “He blocked me. Everywhere. I can’t communicate.” He looked at the floor, then back up to see the losers grabbing their own phones to check. “He blocked me too.” Bev said, followed by a chorus of ‘me too’.

Mike shook his head, “We can’t let this stop us. Richie’s one of us, if he blocks us—let him. But we’re not letting him get away so easily.” Eddie nodded and wiped away the excess tears with his sleeve.

“Food. We’ll need it. A whole fuckin’ lot of it.” Eddie smiled, sniffling. Stan scribbled on the paper.

“Okay—Bill’s car, Food and water… oh! Money for gas..” He added. “Maps.” Ben said, “We can use google, but I think a US paper map would be easier. Maybe we could use both.”

“Besides that, I think we need our phones. That’s it..” Mike added. “A-And where are wwe sup-supposed to get all th-this money?” Bill said, crossing his arms like a little know it all. Eddie’s eyes widen, like he remembered something.

“My dad saved me money for college. But I got a scholarship and paid for most of it myself because I had no idea about it. I’m sure by the time we run out we’ll have him.” He perked up. A plan was evolving. They were actually doing this. Eddie was gonna see Richie again. See him. Hug him. Kiss him.

“Okay. When will we leave?” Ben asked, getting obviously excited and prepared.

“Well, this is urgent. What do you think, Eddie?” Bev asked, considering the fact that Eddie had to be in charge of this one.

“The sooner we start, the sooner we find him. I say tonight.” The Losers looked at each other, all shrugging.

“Let’s get a move on then, my beautiful dumbasses!”


	2. Once Again, Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT SKSKSK  
> again, sorry about that,  
> tumblr-@darling-richie

The April morning they left was surprisingly chilly. The sky was a color of pink and orange and the ground was covered in a white sheet of morning dew. Eddie was laying in Bevs chest, she had been running her hands through his hair and trying to comfort him. He hadn’t slept at all that night. Eddie had stayed awake and gone through his camera roll, saving all Richie’s pictures and videos, crying quietly in attempt to not wake anyone up. They decided to all sleep at Bill’s house, because they would be leaving so early.

 

He would’ve never thought this would affect him so greatly. He was being a crybaby, but at least he wasn’t lying around and moaning about it to everyone, like Bill expected him to do. At least he was taking this risk.

 

Eddie stared out the window. He felt as if it was like one of those cheesy romance movies he and Richie adored. Maybe Richie was also staring at the sunset and thinking of Eddie. Besides the cheesy stuff, his head was ringing, his eyes were puffy, and he couldn’t breathe without it sounding like he was having an asthma attack. Bev stirred after a minute of hearing his breathing stutter once more. “Eddie, honey? Are you awake?” Eddie nodded.

 

“You need to sleep at least _some._ ” Stan said, looking back at the smaller boy from ahead of Beverly and Eddie. They put the seats in the back down, they knew that they would be driving for hours. Comfort was key.

 

“L-let him b-be, guys.” Bill said, ruffing his hair up with his hand. _Now_ he decides to be nice. Eddie rolled his eyes.

 

“Are we at the first stop yet?” Mike asked. Ben shook his head in response. “About 45 minutes guys.” Everyone groaned.

 

They decided Richie would go out West of Derry, that way he could get the farthest away. Not to mention he always talked about heading somewhere out West after High School.  The drive wasn’t that bad. The sunset was pretty and the warmth from the sun outside heated up the car. Eddie leaned into Bev, she didn’t smell like cigarettes and mint scent he longed for, but it was the closest thing he had.

 

He had overheard Stan talking to Bill last night when he was attempting sleep. Something about how Eddie’s grief is coming in stages, they need to be easy on him, the trip was all for Eddie, _yadda-yadda-yadda._ He could remember was feeling angry, wanting to scream at his friends for doing this for him instead of Richie. It didn’t help the fact that they wanted to treat Eddie like a baby in the duration of their trip.

 

God, it almost felt never ending. His stupid emotions affecting everything he did. Mad at the losers for not caring so much, mad at Richie for leaving, mad at himself for not realizing something was wrong. All he could do for now was curl up into Richie’s giant tee shirt and hope that somehow the dark haired loudmouth was okay.

 

* * *

 

Richie settled down for the first week at a hotel complex called “Maxine’s Resorts”, his heart empty. The giant bags under his eyes were officially too big for concealer to cover and Eddie’s face was still his home screen, because he didn’t have the heart to change it.

 

The first couple of nights where excruciatingly hard. He had to sleep with the weight of everything on his shoulders. How would he afford everything? He planned it over and over again in his head, still he doubted himself. He tried drinking it all away but he would always get so depressed, he didn’t want to resort back to drugs because he was _finally_ sober after a year of misery.

 

He had to own up to this responsibility. If he was gonna live on his own he needed to stop the sappy “baby, I miss you” shit. Richie knew he was gonna be different when all was said and done. No more mom jokes. Less cursing. More maturity.

 

And lord, getting text messages from people back at home _hurt._ In fact, last week it was Eddie texting him from Betty Ripson’s phone. He locked himself in a bathroom for a good 3 hours. Richie let himself cry for that and that only. Mostly because he couldn’t stop himself.

 

After the week had ended he planned to move straight ahead for 9 hours and stop there, unless he found a great place within those hours. He bought snacks, his laptop, his phone and a lot of his belongings for the road. He was going by bus most likely. He could practically hear Eddie gagging at the idea for spending hours on a public bus, he would hate it. Maybe that’s the reason Richie was taking the bus in the first place.

 

It was a thing he started doing unconsciously. He’d do something one of the losers hated in attempt to forget. Like take unusually long showers, Mike despised it. Singing the words to _Deepthroat_ out loud—Stan would actually strangle him. Now he’s riding a public bus.

 

Maybe in a few days he’d be okay. As long as he could stay alive, he’d get over it all. He hoped.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first stop was a failure, no one had seen Richie at all. Not the people at the gas stations, the airports, the malls, the restaurants. _Nothing._ The losers just felt father away from him. Like he was on island, drifting further and further from safe land. Eddie expected it, but he got his hopes up. He cried for what felt like the millionth time in the bathroom of the last little shop they visited, alone for the first time that week. He sputtered wet, heart-shattering apologies, to no one in particular except the palms of his hands. Eddie was not taking anything well—all the losers knew, none of them had the balls to address it.

 

They drove for an hour and a half to their motel, Ben driving and Bev holding his hand in shotgun. Eddie was in the usual position—knees curled in his chest, eyes heavy, nose under Richie’s sweatshirts collar. The losers let him have his space, he was very thankful for it.

 

The sky was darkening to a purple-blue and the street lights where illuminating the indigo sky in a rather ugly, yellowish way. The car stunk of sweat dripping with anxiety, something that made Eddie’s stomach dance into knots. He sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were at the motel.

 

Apparently the losers gave him his own room for the night, which he thought was incredibly sweet—then realized it was because they wanted to sleep, not hear Eddie’s sniffles all night. He honestly didn’t blame them.

 

He laid in the small bed of the resort and struggled to get used to the feeling of the scratchy, fake sheets. Every minute he lay awake, he was so _fucked_. If they didn’t find Richie what would he do? Probably sink into a hole and die. Maybe let his mother take over his life and forget the dreams of getting married to a tall, curly-haired boy.

 

Eddie was getting desperate, he looked at the clocked every few minutes. It was 2:30 in the morning. He made his way to the bathroom, he wasn’t gonna sleep anyway. Might as well do _something._

 

The idea was stupid. It sounded like something straight out of romcom. He had his phone propped up on the toilet seat and was sitting on the bathroom floor (with a towel underneath him, _of course_. Can you _imagine_ how many germs are on that floor?). He look straight into in camera and took a deep breath. “Um.. hi, Rich. It’s currently 2:46 am on a Saturday night.” His voice was already cracking, he shook his head. “We started looking really early this morning to find you. So far, no luck.” He covered his mouth with his hand and took an even shakier inhale.

 

After that, everything spilled out of him. The long hours, the car ride, the people they’d talked to, how he _knew_  Richie wouldn’t see this, but it made him feel better that there was a _chance._ He even made it clear how _fucking mad_ he was that he would just _leave_ him like that. How Richie’s an asshole, but he misses him so fucking much. He looked up to the phone once more.

 

“I love you, you fucking ass - _I love you._

 

The next morning, Bev came to wake him up. He had only slept for 3 hours before they left for the next town. It was Stan's turn to drive, which meant Mike was in the front seat. It hurt to watch Stan and Mike be lovey-dovey.  _That_ could be him and Richie, but it obviously wasn't. It would probably never be them, since Tozier is god knows where and Kaspbrack was a goddamn mess. The thoughts in Eddie's head where travelling as fast as Bill's car on the highway, and he soon found it hard to focus as they got closer and closer to Annes-Ville, some odd, unknown town. 

 

Annes-Ville was a pretty town, with probably 2,000-5,000 inhabitants. It was weirdly similar to New York, without the taxi's and rushing business men and women. There were restaurants and stores galore, which was surprising for it's small population. "This must be a tourist-trap area. I mean Derry has about 10,000 people and half the attractions this places got." Ben chuckled, catching Eddie's attention.

 

"I kinda like it. It's almost like a ghost town." Bev added, elbowing Eddie. Eddie tried to smile, but it came off as more of a grimace.

 

"Either way, it's very Richie-like. I have a good feeling." Mike said, smiling wide. Eddie gave a thankful half-smile towards him, Mike  _always_ had a good feeling. It's one of the things the losers loved about him. 

 

With Bill's plan, the losers scattered around the town like roaches. They went up to every diner, cafe, theatre, hotel, and building they could find. Bev stuck with Eddie, which he was happy about. As much as he needed to be alone, it felt good when Bev comforted him. 

 

After about 8 hours of rejection, Bev and Eddie came across a post office. "Might as well try." Bev said, squeezing Eddie's hand. They both walked into the small room together, ringing the attendance bell at the abandoned office. A pretty women came across the desk, she smiled apologetically. 

 

"Sorry about that wait. I'm Angela. How may I help you?" The girl, Angela, smiled. Bev looked at Eddie and nodded.

 

"Hi, I'm Eddie. We're looking for a man. Really,  _really,_ tall. Dark, curling dark hair." He showed the picture on his phone, Eddie's favorite picture of Richie. "This is him."

 

Angela bit her lip at the picture, looking confused. Eddie immediately knew what it meant. He sighed and looked at Bev, who seemed just as distraught as Eddie. "Sorry, for bothering, we-"

 

"He came in here last week asking where the nearest train station was. I asked him who used trains anymore and he said 'classy-folk, like me.' Told me his name was Richie, and he was looking for a way out."

 

Everything froze. Bev covered her mouth. "Your serious?" She stuttered out, nearly sobbing. Angela nodded in response, smiling. 

 

"If you go to the station and ask them, considering your situation, I'm sure they'd help you. Keep on looking, guys." Angela waved them off, and Eddie ran out the door, letting the tears fall down his face. Except this time, it wasn't out of self-loathe and misery. Bev shot a text to the groupchat as they ran to the van together. They took off to the  _Annes-Ville Communication and Transportation_ once Bill took a quick head-count. They all buzzed with excitement. 

 

Eddie smiled his genuine, happy smile. The words he said early that morning chased him. 

 

_“I love you, you fucking ass - I love you. And I will not stop looking until you know it.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder that even though this seems like a happy ending, this story is far from over :((  
> also richie's part is tiny, but the next chapter will be focused on him  
> tumblr-@darling-richie

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me!  
> tumblr-@darling-richie


End file.
